Someone Said Goodbye
by Caelhir
Summary: Elrond faces sending Celebrían to Valinor while a wounded Legolas battles his very own, very personal demons.
1. The Return of the Prince

Here it is, the sequel to _Long, Long Journey! _A note to those who haven't read LLJ: If you haven't, please do so. I think this story will make some sense by itself, but there will obviously be a lot of references to its predecessor. It picks up almost exactly where LLJ left off.

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**Someone Said Goodbye**

_by Caelhir_

_Chapter One_

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**_Year 2509 Third Age of Middle Earth_**

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_Is there a reason why a broken heart begins to cry?_

_Is there a reason you were lost although you don't know why?_

_Is there a reason why a broken dream can never fly?_

_Is there a reason you believe and then you close your eyes?_

_Give me a reason why you hide away so much inside._

_If there's a reason, I don't know why._

_~ Enya, "Someone Said Goodbye"_

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"Pass me that."

Elrond's voice was tight and focused as he leaned over the prone form of another elf. Erestor, standing at his side, sighed slightly and rolled his eyes. It was fortunate that he knew Elrond's tone so well, and knew which "that" the healing lord referred to.

Elrond held out his hand vaguely, and Erestor placed the scalpel in the lord's palm carefully. Elrond retracted his arm and continued to work on the unconscious elf.

Erestor looked sadly upon the elf who they operated. Given to him had been the task of keeping the elf sedated throughout the operation. Elrond had explained how difficult and trying this procedure would be. Elrond had insisted on performing the operation himself, though both Glorfindel and Erestor had advised against it. The elf on whom they operated was, in fact, Lady Celebrían herself, Elrond's beloved wife. Erestor and Glorfindel had conferred about the fact that Elrond would be too preoccupied with _whom _he operated upon than being able to look objectively upon the operation and what needed to be physically done, not just for the Lady's comfort.

Erestor hung his head sadly when he remembered examining the wound himself just before Elrond had burst trough the doors of the Healing Ward to begin the operation.

Erestor had seen this type of wound twice before; once it had been a Greenwood warrior who had been stricken, and the other had been his cousin Erendhiel. Both had died, and though Erestor had tried to tell Elrond this, being very careful to do so, the Lord had shaken off his advice and continued with the operation.

Now, Elrond sat up and wiped a hand across his brow, leaving a bloody smear there. His eyes were tearful, and Erestor knew that Elrond had finally come to realize the truth of Erestor's words: Celebrían could not be healed in Middle Earth.

Erestor laid a hand on Elrond's shoulder cautiously. Elrond turned his head and regarded his longtime friend with a hollow and lost expression.

"Is Lady Fate so cruel as to take my love from me? To take a mother from her children, and a Lady from her people?"

Erestor closed his eyes at the grief in Elrond's voice. He was unsure how to answer. Erestor had never been good at consoling the grief-stricken. Glorfindel was better at this sort of thing, and always had been. Even in Greenwood at the time of Queen Lauredhiel's death, it had been Glorfindel who had talked Thranduil out of his crippling grief to convince him that his sons needed him.

Elrond sighed and stood, gazing down at his wife. He had laboured for two long hours trying to remove the poison from his wife's body in the hope that it would revive and restore her.

"She will leave these shores, never to return."

Erestor cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said quietly, "but she will wait for you from that moment until you join her there."

Elrond wiped his eyes and gently picked up Celebrian, removing her to a clean bed. Erestor stood as well and began to clean up. Allowing his eyes to glance around the room, his gaze fell upon the only other inhabitant of the Ward.

Legolas, the prince of Greenwood and Celebrían's savior, lay prone in a bed far from the door. He had not woken since he had been brought in two hours ago by Glorfindel and laid on the bed carefully. Erestor felt a jump of guilt as he realized that both he and Elrond had eclipsed the prince from their memory. Now his focused turned exclusively to the still prince, worry furrowing his brow. Glorfindel had left about an hour ago, claiming to need to see to Elrohir and Elladan, who he had "detained" in his room.

Erestor shuddered. How the twins had allowed the golden haired elf to lock them in that place was beyond him. Glorfindel was renowned for his messiness and his room was a location to be avoided at all costs. Erestor wondered vaguely if the twins were knocked out.

The door opened and the golden haired elf in question strolled through, looked slightly amused, though his face fell slightly at the sadness permeating the room. Meeting Erestor's eyes, he asked the silent question pertaining to Celebrían's health. Erestor shook his head and nodded to Elrond, who sat next to his wife on a bed a ways away. Glorfindel nodded, lowering his head slightly in respect, and stepped lightly over to Legolas' side.

Erestor wondered at the relationship between the two golden elves. Glorfindel was many years Legolas' senior, yet the two were fast friends, never missing a moment to take a scouting trip (most of which ended up with a trip and a stay in the Healing Ward for one or both of them!) or to play a game of chess. A lot of their free time was spent looking up ridiculous things in random books from Erestor's pried library, and reading them to each other in annoyingly tragic or exaggerated voices.

Erestor knew that their relationship had a lot to do with the death of Lauredhiel, Legolas' mother, and that Glorfindel had played a crucial role in consoling the small elfling when his own father had been too consumed by giref to do so. Thranduil and Lauredhiel had been very much in love, and their bond had been deep.

A sharp cry interrupted Erestor's thoughts.

"Lord Elrond!"

Erestor glared at Glorfindel for interrupting Elrond's moment with Celebrían, but Glorfindel's eyes held something akin to panic and fear, and Erestor focused upon the elf upon whose chest Glorfindel's hand lay.

Erestor walked over to Legolas, and he could see that he and Elrond had made a grave error in forgetting the prince. Legolas was deathly white, almost blue, and dark hollows stood out around his eyes. Bruises stood out sharply against his pallid skin, and the uncleaned cuts, crusted over, looked like gashes of the night sky to Erestor, who wondered how on earth no one had thought to at least clean up the poor elf.

Glorfindel pulled out a knife from his belt and cut away at Legolas leather jerkin. It could be replaced, Legolas could not. Cutting open his tunic, Glorfindel pulled it off and heard Erestor take a breath in sharply.

Legolas had been terribly abused in that orc hole, Glorfindel mourned. Two stab wounds stood out, one in his chest and the other in his side. His ribs were most certainly broken, and dried blood still oozed sluggishly from the wound in his stomach, a tear as big as Glorfindel's hand. Glorfindel closed his eyes for half a moment, then turned to call for Elrond again, only to find the Lord of Imladris already at his side, tying back his hair and preparing for another surgery.

Without speaking, Elrond directed the other two elves, realized he would need another pair of hands. Before he had even completed the thought, another presence was at his side.

Turning his head, expecting Elrohir or Elladan, he jumped at the sight of his daughter Arwen. Opening his mouth to tell her to go find one of her brothers, she shook her head, a fierce look entering her eyes.

"I'm helping you, Father. I know how."

Elrond nodded and turned back to his work, slightly shocked, but the task ahead of him wiped other thought from his mind; if Thranduil's son was to survive, he was in for a tiring ordeal.

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Short, and fast-paced, I think, but it's not too bad! This story will be interesting, just you wait. I think it will take you by surprise!


	2. Farewells and Greetings

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**Someone Said Goodbye**

_by Caelhir_

_Chapter Two_

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Elrond blinked as he bent over the unconscious prince. His wounds were proving much harder to heal than he had originally thought. Again, Elrond felt a twisting sense of guilt. He had allowed his love and worry for his wife to ignore other patients who could still be healed in Middle Earth.

Elrond glanced up at Erestor, who was monitoring Legolas' pulse and the condition of the prince's vitals. Erestor's eyes spoke of the same guilt that was in Elrond's mind. Elrond looked at Glorfindel.

The tall elf was staring down at Legolas' face with a pleading expression, as though he would simply will Legolas into being well. Elrond sighed. This was putting too much stress on the golden-haired elven lord.

"Glorfindel," Elrond said gently. Glorfindel glanced at Elrond, but said nothing. Elrond sighed and continued.

"Go get some rest, Glorfindel. I can manage here."

"With all respect, Lord Elrond," said Glorfindel quietly, "I'll stay."

Elrond sighed again, nodded, and carried on.

Legolas had been, quite honestly, torn apart by the orcs he had encountered. The wounds to his chest and stomach were the most pressing, so Elrond focused the attention there first.

Giving Arwen the command to hand him whatever he needed, Elrond began to carefully cut, stitch, and in one case, cauterize. Elrond hated cauterizing wounds, but at least Legolas was asleep instead of conscious for the painful procedure. Finally, Elrond was able to repair the gaping wound in Legolas' stomach. Glorfindel commented dryly that Legolas would certainly remember_ that _wound when he finally woke. Erestor shot his a nasty look, but Elrond and Arwen chuckled slightly.

Erestor regarded the daughter of Elrond curiously. She had never really shown an undue amount of interest in healing, yet whenever Legolas or the twins were in this room, there she was, sitting by them until they woke. He wondered briefly if there was any future between Legolas and Arwen. He shrugged mentally: if there was, only Elrond would know.

Right now, Arwen was leaning over Legolas' torso with her father, handing him the tools he needed at his command. As for Elrond, the elven lord's brow was creased in concern, and he sat back. His eyes met Erestor's.

"I will need your help, mellon nin."

Erestor proceeded to Elrond's side. Arwen stepped out of the way and resumed Erestor's position at Legolas' wrist, checking his pulse.

"This wound here," Elrond said, pointing out a nasty stab in Legolas' chest, "Will require some special attention. It is deep, and I believe he has inured, if not punctured, his lung."

Erestor gasped, as did Glorfindel and Arwen.

"But my lord," said Glorfindel quickly, "Had he puntured his lung, would he not be dead by now?"

"Glorfindel, I certainly pray it is so," responded Elrond, somewhat ominously. "Now, let's get to work."

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As Elrond attempted to heal the grievous injuries of the prince of Greenwood, Elrond's own sons were standing together in the corridor outside of the operation, listening to the talk coming from the Healing Ward. They did not speak to each other.

Elladan stood leaning against the wall across from the door, sharp eyes fixed on the door. His feelings were quite jumbled at the moment, mixed concern for Legolas, terror of the inevitable loss of his mother, and terrible fury at the creatures that had committed these acts. His temper had been snapping since he and Elrohir had returned with Glorfindel and Legolas, who had been whisked away to the Healing Ward. Neither twin had seen him since, but Arwen had stuck her head out of the door not a moment ago, asking if they wanted to come inside. Neither elf had answered their younger sister, who had rolled her eyes and retreated into the Ward.

Elrohir, quite the opposite of Elladan's calm rage, was shifting restlessly, and had been doing so for the past few hours. His mind was in turmoil as well. He blamed himself for not finding Legolas faster, for letting Legolas go on his own, for whatever he could think of. He wasn't wallowing in self-pity, not yet, but he was trapped in a despairing anger that he felt would soon call for external actions to relieve. He wanted to kill, to stab and cut at the orcs and goblins that had caused his mother and best friend beyond Elladan to be so wounded. His anger, unlike his brother's reserved fury, was bright and snapping like a fire.

After another half an hour of silence, Elladan finally spoke.

"Would you like to see how they are?"

No further clarification was needed. Elrohir nodded and together the elves walked into the Healing Ward.

Elrond was washing his hands in the wash-basin, his back to the room at large. Arwen sat speaking quietly with Celebrían, who was sitting up in a bed on the far side of the room. Elrohir's eyes, however, after ascertaining that his mother was all right for the moment, were drawn to the two golden-haired elves in the room.

Glorfindel sat on the head of the bed, holding Legolas' head in his hands. He was bent next to Legolas' ear. Whether speaking or listening, Elrohir could not be sure. Elladan went to the far end of the room and began to speak with Celebrían as well. Elrohir stayed rooted to the spot. They couldn't waste time like this! The orcs were still out there, and needed to be hunted down.

Erestor, as though sensing the younger elf's spirited thought, took Elrohir by the arm and led him to Legolas' side. Without a word, Elrohir knelt next to the bed, gazing at the face of his best friend.

_Please wake, _he thought fervently. _I'll let you even tease me for losing that drinking contest! I'll let you tell everyone how I thought you were an elleth, and tried to kiss you! Anything, if you wake and are all right!_

Elrohir bowed his head, gripping Legolas' hand, then stood and turned away to go and speak to his mother.

Celebrían was surrounded by her family now, sitting up in bed. She looked well in body, but her eyes were dim, without life. Elrohir felt his heart's pain at the sight. An elf's eyes, especially one as bright and vibrant as his mother, should be filled with life and shining. The orckish poison had stripped that from her. In a flash of understanding, Elrohir knew what his mother was about to say before she said it.

"I am sailing to Valinor in two days time."

Elladan gasped and Arwen began to cry. Elrohir bowed his head as tears filled his own eyes. His father spoke next.

"Is there nothing I can do here to make you comfortable? Is there anything-"

Celebrían shook her head, golden hair whirling about her head.

"There is nothing. I am in pain, and I wish to depart. Please, do this one last thing for me?"

Elrond lowered his head, tears falling form his eyes. He nodded.

The grief-stricken family gathered together, embracing each other as they savored their last moments as a whole family.

From the other side of the room, Glorfindel averted his eyes out of respect. Next to him, Erestor did the same. They exchanged a glance. The House of Elrond would be forever changed by this, by Lady Celebrían's leaving.

When Glorfindel felt the gentle squeeze on his hand, he returned the pressure blankly, not quite grasping what it meant at first. Then his head shot up and he gasped, looking down at Legolas, whose eyes had cracked open.

"_Legolas!" _Glorfindel whispered joyfully.

Legolas stared blankly at Glorfindel, eyes glazed with pain and lingering poison. Elrond had said that the most important thing to do, when Glorfindel had laid Legolas on the bed where he was now so many long hours ago, was to close the worst of the elf's wounds. They would take care of the rest after he woke, for his lucidity was necessary, said Elrond.

Glorfindel looked up at where the family of Elrond sat grouped around each other. His heart ached at the thought of disturbing them. Looking back at Legolas to reassure the prince that he would be gone only for a moment, Glorfindel found that Legolas' eyes had slipped shut again. Glorifndle sighed and settled down again.

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_Two days later_

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Celebrían had gone. Her children had bid their final farewells as she had left, guarded heavily by a large contingent of Imladrin warriors. Glorfindel led the company, swearing to Elrond that he would get Celebrían to the Grey Havens safe and sound.

The silence that filled Elrond's home after the departure of the bright lady was absolute. None who lived there dared make any noise for fear of disturbing the grieving family. Yet life went on and there were duties to be seen through.

One of these duties was Elrond's, and his sense of honor would not let him leave Legolas' side, waiting for the prince to wake from what havoc the poison was wreaking on his body. Elrond had done what he could while Legolas was unconscious, but the healer knew that soon Legolas would have to wake if Elrond was to ascertain just how much damage it was that the poison was doing.

Elrohir and Elladan had left on their orc-hunt, eyes flashing and backs straight. Their manner had been quiet as they had walked from the House. Elrond and even Arwen had tried to stop them from going, keep them from this dangerous mission, but they had sworn revenge on the ones who had forced their mother from them in an untimely manner.

Arwen had run out to where their horses stood waiting, tears shining in her eyes.

"_Saes," _she begged them. "Please, don't leave me and Ada!"

The twins had regarded her silently before stepping forward simultaneously and pulling her into a hug. Stepping back, they had met each other's eyes briefly before swinging up onto their horses.

"_Gwaenc hi," _said Elladan. "Let's go."

Yesterday morning that had been, and Elrond sat next to Legolas with his only remaining child. Arwen was staring silently at Legolas' face, a despondent expression on her face. Elrond wondered how the future would be for Arwen without her mother. He knew of the close bond between mothers and daughters, but had no idea the depths to which it ran, and he fervently prayed Arwen would not be cast into grief for too long or too deeply.

Elrond stood, twisting slightly to ease the tightness in his cramping back. Arwen pulled her eyes from the prone prince's face and looked questioningly at her father.

"I am going to get some work done," he told her. "Come get me immediately if he wakes, all right?" He planted a kiss on her forehead and Arwen raised her arms to hug her father before turning back to her quiet contemplation of Legolas.

About an hour after Elrond had left, Lindir, a warrior of Imladris and a friend of Legolas' and the twins', entered the room.

"_Le suilon_, Arwen," he said quietly. "I only just heard about Legolas. I've been away on patrol. How is he?"

Arwen knew what the bright young scout had avoided saying: that he had also heard about her mother, but both ignored the unspoken fact in favor of Legolas' welfare.

"He hasn't woken since they found him in an orc cave," Arwen told Lindir, whose eyes grew round with concern for his friend.

Legolas and Lindir had met as small children, when Thranduil had had important business in Imladris and had brought his family for a relaxing vacation from Greenwood. Legolas, as Elrohir and Elladan enjoyed telling the story, had been most reluctant to come to Imladris because he "wouldn't get to play spiders and elves" with his friends. "Spiders and Elves" was the game of choice for most young Greenwood elflings. It consisted of several pairs of two elflings standing next to each other, linking arms while another elfling was elected as the spider. Another elfling was chosen as the elf, and the game began. The spider chased the elf, who could seek safety by linking arms with one of the pairs of elflings. The elfling on the other side of the new elfling would become the new elf, and on the game went.

Legolas had been sulking about Imladris on the day his father had brought him, unable to find any elflings to play with, since Elrohir and Elladan were in Lorien with their mother, visiting their grandparents. Lindir had been "abandoned" by his parents as well in favor for the meeting between Thranduil and Elrond. Both elflings had been skulking about the library and had bumped into each other. The friendship had taken off from there, leading to joint scouting patrols and letters from Greenwood addressed to Elrohir, Elladan, and Lindir. Whenever Legolas was "in town," he made sure he found Lindir and that the two had ample time to catch up with each other. This generally involved a bottle of Dorwinion that Legolas had managed to sneak from the wine cellars in Greenwood.

Now Lindir leaned over his friend, worry etched in his face.

"How long ago was that, when they brought him back?"

"Four days, Lindir. It's been four days, and he hasn't woken–"

But at that moment, Legolas' hand had twitched and both Lindir and Arwen looked at him.

Grey eyes opened slowly and regarded the room around him. His face creasing with pain, Legolas' eyes found Arwen and Lindir. Arwen turned to Lindir.

"Go get my father, quickly! He's in his study!"

Lindir nodded and darted away. Arwen sat back down, scooting her chair closer to Legolas' head.

"How do you feel, my friend?" she asked, instantly wishing she hadn't, for she knew from the way her father had been acting that the pain of the poison hadn't yet left the Greenwood elf. Legolas grinned weakly.

"After what I remember, I'm glad to have woken up at all."

Arwen smiled. But as Legolas smiled back, she felt a flutter in her stomach. How had she never noticed the way that one side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly higher than the other, of the way his eyes shone, even when clouded in pain?

The door opened behind her and she jumped, turning to see her father striding across the hall to her side, Lindir trotting behind him.

"Ah, Thranduilion," Elrond said warmly. "So you've decided to join the living, then!"

"I figured that I haven't caused you and my father enough worry yet, and so, yes, I returned!" said Legolas brightly, pain crossing his face at his laughter. Elrond's face grew serious and he shoo'ed Arwen out of her chair so he could attend to the prince.

"Legolas," he said seriously. "I will need to assess exactly how the poisons has progressed in your body. For that, I need to perform a series of tests. Some will be painful, some will not. Is that all right with you?"

Legolas hesitated; his inborn instinct of protecting himself, coupled with his strong dislike of healing wings, medicine, and being prodded and examined, prevented him from answering Elrond's question right away. Yet he knew it would be only worse for him if he refused Elrond's help. He nodded, and Elrond continued.

"I will need to draw some of your blood. I have some special substance that will indicate the poisons types, which ever is present. Then I will also need samples of your urine. I know," he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling at the wince that crossed Legolas' face, "it's not any more pleasant for me, but it's necessary to see if poison is leaving your system."

Legolas sighed and met Elrond's eyes in a tired way.

"Very well. When would you like to begin?"

"Immediately, if possible," responded the elf lord gravely. "That was no benign poison the orcs used, but had it been the same on used on– on Celebrían," his voice faltered briefly, "you would be dead, I have no doubt. So I know that the poison, though severe and surely unkind to your body, is not yet so dangerous as to kill you, I believe."

Legolas stared at him, unsure whether to be happy or not. Elrond smiled.

"Shall we?"

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	3. Failure

**My deepest thanks to Muse10, ziggy3, JaydeRayne, Leo-firefly and Wtiger5 for reviewing so far. Chapter 3 dedicated to JaydeRayne for keeping me company on the long bus ride home yesterday.  
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**Someone Said Goodbye**

_Chapter 3_

_by Caelhir_

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_**Life's real failure is when you do not realize how close you were to success when you gave up.**_

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Elrond had been correct; the tests were not pleasant.

Legolas lay in his bed, fingers stinging from the blood Elrond had drawn from them with small needles. His head spun slightly as well; Elrond had forced him to drink glass after glass of water in order for him to be able to collect what Elrond needed for the tests. Legolas blushed, even though he was alone. _That_ was an experience he would gladly never have again.

As he settled down slightly, he took to staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles. He had just gotten to seven hundred and fifty-eight when his stomach itched, and, without thinking, he scratched it.

He winced and gasped as his fingers encountered the stitched wound. Swearing under his breath (it seemed to help, for some reason), he moved his hand away and, for the first time since his awakening (which hadn't exactly been ages ago) thought about his encounter with the orcs in the hellhole in which he had found Celebrían.

He had been wounded before that, he remembered, from the patrol two weeks ago. _Only two weeks, _he thought with surprise. It had only been two weeks since his departure from Greenwood, and yet, he prayed that Elrond had sent a missive to Thranduil and Thoronsul, for as much as the argument had cost him and wounded him, he missed his father and brother very much.

Returning to his memories of Celebrían's rescue, he thought about the flashes of dizzying memories that he had been pondering since he had awoken. It seemed to him that everything after the orcs had dragged him to the room where he had been tortured was a dark hazy blur. He really couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. He thought he could vaguely recall seeing his mother, for some reason, but he knew better than any that Lauredhiel was dead and gone, and could not have been there with him. He also thought that maybe he had heard Elrohir's voice, but no one had told him that details of his own rescue from the orc cave yet, so he couldn't be sure. The things he was sure of were that he had been terribly injured, his father would be furious, and he was never volunteering for _any_ quests _ever again!_

If only he knew the future...

The door opened suddenly, pulling Legolas from his musings, and Arwen entered. Legolas was fervently grateful that he hadn't been swearing too loudly. She walked in backwards due to the tray of food that she was carrying in her hands. She walked over to the table next to Legolas' bed and set the tray down. She pulled a chair up to his side and sat.

"Father told me that you'd be needing some food, since you haven't eaten in days, really, and he said that those tests were bound to make you a little sick."

Legolas nodded and made to sit up. Arwen stood to help him. With her help, he managed to prop himself up a little higher. He felt like an invalid when he was lying down. Besides, he thought wryly, he'd lost his place counting the tiles on the ceiling.

Arwen handed him a piece of toast, covered in jam. Legolas stared at it. He was _starving_, he realized, but Elrond had been right; those tests _had_ made him a little ill. Carefully, he bit into it. It tasted like heaven to his starving stomach!

Arwen smiled at the look on Legolas' face and sat down again. They chatted for a time about the good weather, Legolas' healing condition, and Erestor's recent discovery of a spider the size of his hand in the library, prompting Legolas to begin telling his famous "I-grew-up-in-Greenwood" stories, which were wildly popular with the elflings of Greenwood and Imladris.

After eating a little more, Legolas set down the plate and regarded Arwen seriously.

"Arwen," he said, drawing her attention to him. "What happened to me?"

It was a vague question, but Arwen understood. She smoothed her dress over her legs, and spoke quietly.

"I think Elrohir or Elladan would be more suited to telling you what happened, Legolas. They are the ones who found you– in that– in that– place." Her voice shook slightly, and Legolas rested his hand on hers in a reassuring way.

Both elves looked up into each other's eyes, slightly startled at the sudden contact. Arwen flushed slightly, and Legolas cleared his throat and pulled his hand back.

"What happened?" he asked again, very conscious of his reddening ears.

Arwen looked equally embarrassed, but she continued anyways.

"I think I'll go get Lindir. He was part of the party that accompanied my father and Glorfindel." She stood to leave, gathering the tray with her.

As she walked to the door, Legolas' mind shouted at his to say something.

"Lady Arwen?" he called after her. She stopped and turned back to him. "Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious."

She smiled mirthfully at him.

"Legolas, that wasn't breakfast. It's almost sunset!"

_/\/\/\/\_

"_Thranduil–_

_It is with a heavy heart that I write to you. I fear that I must inform you that a great misfortune has fallen upon Rivendell–"_

"Ada, I swear if Legolas has died, I'm taking troops and we will destroy that Noldorin palace!"

"You'll have to stand in line behind me, Thoronsul!"

"–_fallen upon Rivendell. My wife Celebrían was abducted from her company by orcs. They hid her in the Misty Mountains, and my children despaired that they would never again see their mother._

"_Yet ever has your son been a source of hope for those here in Imladris."_

"That's not a good sign!"

"Yes, I agree. Legolas, in Imladris, as a source of hope? Thoronsul, you'll have to knock some sense into your brother!"

"With pleasure!"

"_I would not normally ask a task like this of one such as your son, but he is one of the most skilled warriors on this side of the sea, and as such, I felt it was befitting of him. His skills would serve him well on this journey."_

"Ada, I don't like where this is going at all."

"_I asked your son to rescue Celebrían from the orcs, and he agreed."_

"He– he– he _WHAT?"_

"Elrond had better prepare for war!"

"_Fear not; your sons has returned alive–"_

"Oh yeah, he's _alive, _but in what condition, Elrond?"

"–_returned alive but injured–"_

"Of course he did!"

"–_injured. He has twice requested that you and Thoronsul join him here in Imladris, and I agree with him. I ask only one thing: __please__ leave your army in Greenwood!_

"_Very Sincerely, Lord Elrond."_

Silence filled King Thranduil's study. Thoronsul looked as though he wasn't sure whether to gather the army or wring his brother's neck. _Probably both, _thought the king, feeling that both actions applied to himself as well.

Finally, after several minutes of blank silence, Thoronsul looked up at Thranduil. The snapping emotion had left his eyes, but his ice blue eyes were troubled.

"What do you think happened to him, ada? Was there more to the letter?"

Thranduil flipped the letter over and shook his head. "I'm sure he's just lost a leg or been disemboweled as usual, Thoronsul. Nothing out of the ordinary, you know."

Thoronsul gave a short laugh. "Well," he said, standing, "I'll go pack, then."

Thranduil nodded, standing up himself. "I will as well. Leave in the morning, then?"

Thoronsul nodded as he exited the study. Thranduil turned to his desk, seized the letter and went directly his own bedroom. Sitting heavily in a chair by the fire, he gazed up at the portrait of his beloved wife Lauredhiel, he sighed.

_Did you know this would happen? _he asked her silently, _That our adorable baby son would grow up to cause me endless amounts of worry?_

As Thranduil sank into slumber right there on the chair, he could have sworn that Lauredhiel's picture seemed to be laughing at him.

_/\/\/\/\_

Lindir had replaced Arwen in the chair next to Legolas' bed, and he was telling Legolas all that he knew entailing the finding of Celebrian and Legolas.

"...and then Glorfindel came running through the halls not too long after we got back with Lady Celebrían with you in his arms, and you, mate, you looked _bad."_

Legolas gave him a look, and Lindir shrugged. "You looked like death itself, what can I say?"

"You could say something about what happened to everyone since I've been here," Legolas intoned dully. "Elrohir and Elladan haven't been to visit me once."

Lindir shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" Legolas asked suspiciously.

"Nothing really," said Lindir, "it's just that they haven't, ah, actually been here at all."

"I know," said Legolas. "I've just told you–"

"No, I mean, they're not in Imladris anymore," said Lindir miserably, as though he _knew_ he was the bearer of bad news. "They left the day they returned after finding you."

Legolas stared at his friend for a full minute before speaking.

"Left? For where?"

Lindir looked even more miserable, if that was possible. "They left for the Misty Mountains three days ago, which was when you were–"

"The Misty Mountains? _Why!"_

"They wanted revenge on the orcs for what happened to Lady Celebrían."

"And what was that?"

"She– she– she left for the Grey Havens."

Legolas stared at his friend in disbelief.

"_What?"_

"The wound she received at the hands of the orcs, it was too much for even Lord Elrond to heal here, and so she left–"

"When?"

"This morning. I'm sorry, Legolas, I really am." Lindir draped an arm over his friend's shoulders to comfort the other elf, ho wore a desolate expression on his face.

One thought was running through Legolas' mind as he laid his head on his friend's shoulder, and it was the one thought that he had felt so many years before when he had been unable to stop his mother falling from her horse to her death:

_I have failed._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Poor boy. What's he going to do?


	4. Love Birds

Thank you flowers go to** Alanic, Tiki, midnight13731**, **OhShirleyUJest,** and dear **JaydeRayne** for reviewing chapter three.

I received a review that asked how closely to canon I will be writing, and the answer is... very. I want to preserve the original story while filling in the gaps on my own, which leaves quite a lot of room for fun, doesn't it? Don't worry, purists: Arwen will hook up with Aragorn in the end, but she has a few hoops to jump through before then.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Someone Said Goodbye**

_Chapter 4_

_by Caelhir_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_I have failed._

_I have failed._

_I have failed._

The mantra seemed to ebb and flow like a pulse through him in time with his own heartbeat.

_Failure. Failure. Failure._

He barely felt Lindir's hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. He could only feel deep, bone-biting failure sweeping over him like a cold wind, stripping him of any warmth and robbing him of comfort. _He had failed._

He had failed Elrond, who had sent him to rescue Celebrían. Elrond had been counting on him.

He had failed Elrohir and Elladan, who had ever been nothing but his friends. They had only wanted their mother back.

He had failed Glorfindel, who had trained him, and Erestor, who had taught him logic and scholarly intelligence.

He had failed Celebrían, who had been taken from safety and her escape could hardly be credited to him, he thought miserably.

But the failure that haunted him the most, for some reason, was his failure of Arwen. The beautiful maiden's eyes were sad and deep every time he had seen them since waking. They were not the bright, mischievous eyes in the face he had once known so well. He buried his face in his hands. He had failed.

"I have failed them, Lindir," he murmured quietly. Lindir said nothing, unsure of how to comfort his friend.

He was so caught up in blaming himself and steeping himself in his own perceived failure that he did not hear the door open, and barely acknowledged it when Lindir left him. Another took his friend's place, and he glanced up.

Elrond sat there, his face looking older than Legolas had ever seen it before. He stared at Legolas as though the younger elf wasn't even there, looking straight through him. Legolas looked away, unable to see such sadness and know it was his fault. Finally, Elrond spoke.

"Thank you, Legolas."

Legolas looked at Elrond in surprise, then away again before asking quietly, "What for, my lord?"

"For bringing Celebrían home. You gave my sons and daughter the chance to see their mother once more before she sailed." When Legolas looked away at the ceiling, eyes full of terrible guilt, Elrond continued.

"Legolas, no one blames you. It was hardly your fault at all. You did all you could. Celebrían told me you were a hero."

"But how," said Legolas, his voice quiet and pitiful, even to his ears, "how can I be a hero when all that came from it was that she had to leave?"

And at once, Elrond saw the source of Legolas' consuming guilt. Legolas thought he failed and he connected the events with Celebrían to the events surrounding the death of his own mother.

When Elrond had gone to Greenwood for the funeral of Lauredhiel, the Queen of Greenwood, he had gotten the chance to speak to Thoronsul, the prince's older brother. Thoronsul, not too much older than Legolas, said that Legolas had been on the same horse as his mother when the horse had spooked and thrown Lauredhiel and Legolas. Lauredhiel had made herself into a human shield and had hit her head on the ground in protecting Legolas from injury. Thoronsul had told Elrond that Legolas had retreated into a quiet world of blaming himself.

Now Elrond could clearly see that world coming back to the youngest of Thranduil's children. He leaned forward and gathered Legolas into a hug.

"_Penneth,"_ he whispered, "_penneth. _It wasn't your fault, and you mustn't think that at all. There was nothing you could have done." Seeing the despondent expression on Legolas' face, Elrond continued what he was saying.

"Do you remember when Elrohir injured you many years ago?" At Legolas' nod, Elrond smiled. "I rather thought you would. It was quite a terrible wound he dealt you, was it not?"

Legolas frowned at Elrond. "Yes, I suppose it was, but it's not as though he stabbed me on purpose! I–" He trailed off as he realized what Elrond had been hinting at. He frowned.

"But you placed your faith in me, and I– I _failed,"_ he said miserably. He truly hated how self-pitying he was acting, but he just couldn't see how this could possibly not be his fault, or at least how it could have been prevented by himself. Elrond put a gentle hand on Legolas' shoulder, mindful of the wounds still healing on the prince's body.

"I am not going to justify that remark with a response. I am sure you will figure out what is important in time," he said, smiling kindly at Legolas' surprised expression. He stood and waled to the door, stepping aside as it flew open. Arwen rushed through.

"_Legolas Thranduilion!"_ She said sternly. "I heard Lindir telling the most ridiculous things about you, something about you saying you think you've failed everyone?"

Elrond smiled benignly. "I'll leave you two to it, then," he said as he slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him. Arwen turned slightly as her father left, but turned back to the immobile Legolas right away.

"Now," she said firmly, marching over and towering above him imperiously, "what is this utter _nonsense_ about you failing everyone?"

Legolas shrank into the bed as Arwen looked at him thunderously.

"Well," he said quietly, "I– I– don't mean–"

"I know what you mean!" Arwen said, planting her fists on her hips and glaring him into silence. "You think just because you didn't come back with my mother that you are to blame for her sailing! Well, mister, may I remind you that you were injured just as she was? Worse, in fact? May I _also _ remind you–" she steamrolled right over Legolas' weak attempts to stop her, "–that it took my father a full _day _to get you back from the brink of death? And _further more,_ I will tell you that I myself did nothing but watch over you for three days, and if you think I'm going to let you take that all for granted and pity yourself, you can think again!"

Legolas stared at Arwen in slight shock. She was red in the face and seemed to have run herself into silence. Tentatively, he spoke.

"I– I'm sorry, Arwen. I didn't mean to sit here and stew, I just..." he trailed off, not wanting to say how much the incident reminded him of being unable to save all the warriors in his patrol during a particularly dangerous scouting mission to Dol Guldar. Arwen smiled thinly at him.

"It's quite all right," she said, and to his surprise, she burst into tears. Startled, he made to sit, but was hindered by the dull ache in his middle flaring briefly into a reminding blaze. He pushed himself up as best he could and pulled the sobbing elven lady into his arms.

"There, there," he said awkwardly, patting her on the top of her head. He was completely at a loss for what to do in this situation. It was generally Thoronsul or his father who had hysterical people coming to them at all times of the day. Legolas had always stayed out of those situations to the best of his ability. Arwen was sobbing incoherently.

"It's just– just that now nana's gone– and Ada's so busy– and– and– I'm missing her so much, and Ada– Ada wants to send– send– me to Lorien– but I don't– don't want to go! I can't leave now– and with you injured– and Ro and Dan away– I need to be here–!"

Gradually she calmed. Arwen sniffled loudly and pulled away from Legolas, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Being silly," she muttered, not looking at Legolas. "I'm sorry, Legolas, I didn't mean to be such a wreck, just– it's been– been so hard since Naneth left–"

"I know," said Legolas quietly, images of his own beautiful mother flashing through his mind, and once again, he felt that inexplicable sense of failure. "I"m sor–"

But Arwen cut him off with a shake of her head, firmly refusing to hear any more comments about his "failure."

"No, Legolas. I don't know if you've yet noticed, but no one around here blames you, and I don't know why you should either. It wasn't your fault– why, you went through just as much as she did! Which reminds me–" she broke off and commanded him to lie back. "Ada told me to check your wounds while I was here. How have they been."

Legolas grimace. He didn't want to lie to her, but his wounds had been aching ever since he woke up. Not only was that bothering him, but he wanted so badly to just get up and _move._ He was so bored... He sighed, and Arwen seemed to understand.

Smiling gently, she said, "Come. If you let me help you, we can go out to the balcony. Only no telling Ada!"

Laughing, the two elves made their slow way out onto the balcony.

From the door, Erestor and Elrond watched their slow progress. Erestor glanced at Elrond.

"Should he be up yet?"

"Oh, that's not what I'm worried about," Elrond said in an unreadable voice. "It's their growing closer is what worries me now."

Erestor raised an eyebrow. "Is this the famous 'fatherly protectiveness' that I've heard all about from Elrohir, Elladan _and_ Arwen?"

Elrond shook his head slowly as the pulled their heads out of the room and began to walk away down the corridor. "No," he said, sounding preoccupied, "it's not that, it's just that I feel that either one of two things can happen with it.

"If it ends up working out, I fear that great evil will come to the world. Oh not because of them," he added, at the look on Erestor's face, "but relating to something that happens because of them, or something that _didn't_ happen because of them.

"The other thing I fear is their new love not working out. I fear for them; Arwen is already fragile because of Celebrían's departure, and Legolas because of his self-inflicted guilt of his 'failure,' and I pray that the Valar know what they're doing."


	5. Visions of Lord Elrond

A/N: Thanks to **Metoochocolate, Alanic, ziggy3, midnight13731 **and** JaydeRayne.**

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Someone Said Goodbye**

_Chapter 5_

_by Caelhir_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Dark clouds covered the earth, choking the sun, cloaking the life there in darkness and shadow. No green plants grew, no children laughed or played. Villages were silent. Cities stood empty and dull, streets covered in bloodstains and dust from ancient fights. _

_One city stood bright and dangerously evil, the city of Men._

_Gondor. There was no life there, save for the slaves and servants of the Shadow._

_No life._

_No light._

_No Hope._

Elrond reeled in his chair as the vision progressed, horrified by the blank, dark nothing that he saw.

_Two people darted from one tree to the next in a forest with trees so covered in filth and decay that they were barely recognizable. They grasped hands and ran through the shadowy trees. It was Greenwood, but it was not the Greenwood anyone would remember. Dark and dead, it was now the stronghold of the Shadow. The two elves ran through a set of badly broken gates and into a clearing where other elves waited for them._

_A warning horn sounded and the elves tensed, looking around in a panicky way as snapping a crunching sounds came from outside the damaged gates._

_ A man walked towards them, swinging a sword. Orcs and men rose up from around the "haven" of the elves to surround them, leaving no escape._

_The elves drew together, and Elrond saw that it was Legolas who drew his companion to his side protectively. Legolas drew a dagger from his belt and held it protectively against the man, a small defence against such a man, with an army and reinforcements._

_The man laughed. _

Elrond thought that he knew this man, or perhaps the man was someone he would come to know. Sometimes visions were like that: he would meet people he hadn't yet met, but whom he would come to be acquainted with in the future.

_The man spoke._

_"Well, well, well. What's this? Elves? Trying to protect your precious forest? Oh, no, none of that now__" __he said, nodding at his men, who surged forwards and seized Legolas' companion. Legolas shouted in protest and made to leap forward, but a swing from the lead man's sword caught him in his middle. Hard._

_Legolas dropped to the ground, clutching at the terrible gape in his body. The man stood imperiously over him, proclaiming, "There will be no insubordination! Shadow reigns. You will be taken to Mordor, where you will be enslaved! No protests, or you will die before you get there!"_

_The elves' eyes hardened, though several sets of eyes darted in horror and pain to Legolas' stilling form on the ground. The elves were defiant. They would not go without a fight, and the man seemed to realize this. He narrowed his eyes and signaled this troops._

_"Attack!"_

As the army moved forward, the man turned to look straight at Elrond.

_"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is the way it will be–" _

–He moved aside and pointed in time for Elrond to see Arwen fall to her knees next to Legolas, who was clearly dead. She wailed in grief, and clutched her heart, screaming Legolas' name. An orc swung a sword at her, and Elrond cried out, but before he could see what happened, the man blocked his view again–

_"–if they are united. Prepare, Lord Elrond, prepare for this. I was not meant to be this way."_

Elrond knew the Valar then, knew they were warning him. He slumped in his chair as the vision abruptly ended. He held his hands to his face in numb shock. The world covered in darkness, all because of his daughter's being courted by his own "second-son," the one he had practically adopted? How could it be? Was another elf's happiness to be shattered by the Valar's infernal plans?

But that was not all. Aragorn son of Arathorn. Descended from Elros, Elrond's own brother.

But now he had to tell his daughter that she could not see Legolas, that Elrond had foreseen terrible things because of their future courtship. How would that seem to his poor daughter?

_Wildly overprotective parenting, that's what, _Elrond thought wryly.

_Oh dear Valar,_ Elrond thought shakily. _Dear Valar, I'm in for a long night._

_/\/\/\/\/\/_

Once Legolas was situated back in his room, settling down for the night, Elrond decided to pay him a visit. He stopped outside the doors to the Healing Wing, hesitating. This was the first thing in a along time that had brought light and love to Legolas' life. How could Elrond come along and ruin that happiness?

Taking a breath, he steeled his resolve opened the door. The prepared words died on his lips.

Legolas sat curled into a ball on the window, dry, restrained half-sobs wracking his frame. He clutched at the wounds on his chest, but it seemed he could not stop the pain that the cries he held back brought him.

Arwen stood next to him, arms around him, whispering into Legolas' ear. She held a loving, utterly sympathetic look in her eyes, soft and kind.

Elrond stepped lightly over, and Arwen looked up, a defensive and guilty expression warring with the sad, kind one she wore. Elrond guided her gently out of the way. He would talk to her later. He slipped an arm around Legolas' tense and shaking shoulders. Legolas jumped and glanced up, then scrubbed a hand across his eyes, seemingly embarrassed for his tears, or lack of them.

"Legolas," Elrond said softly, "What is troubling you?"

Legolas' eyebrows dropped over his eyes, forming a stubborn frown. He averted his eyes and glared out of the window. Behind him, Elrond heard Arwen exit the room. Focusing his attention on Legolas, Elrond asked again what was wrong.

"_I_ _failed!"_ Legolas said harshly. "You gave me a task, and I did not complete it. That is failure!"

Elrond looked at Legolas. The wood-elves were a strange folk, he thought. They were forced to raise their children among shadow and death, and some said that the Sinda there were born with a bow in one hand and a sword in the other, ready from birth to defend their homeland to the death. Legolas was one of them, and since a oyung age, Elrond knew that he had been held to a high standard. As a prince of Greenwood, Legolas had three roles to fill: warrior, prince, and son of the king. The last two roles seemed, to outsiders, to be the same, but Elrond knew that being prince and being the son of the King of Greenwood were two very different things.

"_Penneth,"_ he whispered, "_penneth. _It wasn't your fault, and you mustn't think that at all. There was– was nothing you could have done. How any times must we tell you? The Valar alone knew."

He swallowed his own tears as he felt them rise to his eyes. "I couldn't save her. She couldn't save herself. The Valar took her away, Legolas, and we can't understand that, but we must–"

"But _how_ can I understand that!" Legolas burst out abruptly. He pulled away from Elrond, twisting to face the elder elf, though it caused him pain in his wounds. The clear grey eyes were hard and cold like flint. "First my sister, then my brother," he said, hauling himself to his feet and hobbling around the room, glaring out of the windows as he passed them. He continued, "And that's not to mention the brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers of my friends who have fought the Shadow. Then those friends themselves! Then my mother, and finally, your wife. How many more, Elrond, how many more must be made sacrifices until this damned Shadow will be gone form my home? From Arda?"

He turned at the far end of the Healing Wing and stumbled on his way to the other side, speaking all the while. He ignored Elrond as the other elf stood to help the younger warrior.

"I've watched my friends die in front of me. I've been forced to end the lives of my childhood companions, Elrond, to spare them the agonizing deaths that the cohorts of the Shadow have inflicted upon them. I've killed and I've saved, but it seems to be for naught!

"And you here in Imladris, you and those in Lórien, you are protected by your magical elven Rings, but what to we have in Greenwood? _Nothing!"_

He ended his rant on a loud shout, slamming his fists onto the windowsill. Elrond was caught in a shocked half-crouch, not having moved from where he had begun to rise to help Legolas should he need it.

Elrond was shocked by Legolas' outburst. He would normally chalk it up to the stress of healing, the monotony of staying inside, of having nothing to do, and, the thing Legolas hated most, being injured. In Legolas' eyes, for him personally to be injured was the same thing as invalid. It never applied the same way to anyone else, though.

Elrond rose and walked quietly to stand next to the now-still elf by the window. When Elrond drew up next to Legolas, he found to his surprise that there were tears gathered in the corners of Legolas' flashing eyes. Legolas stared sharply out at Imladris, glaring at the beauty laid out before him.

"It is not fair," Elrond said finally to Legolas, "that you have know such pain and loss so young. Nor that you should have known it constantly.. Is there a day in your memory that was not marked by the Shadow?"

Legolas was silent for a moment before nodding. "There are three," he said, and his voice was tinged with unrest, eyes following the busy elves below him. "One, I am not sure if it is a dream or not. But it is from when I was very young. I shared a picnic with my mother, and sister. We went to a hidden glade. I have never found it again, in all my years of searching, so I came to the conclusion that I either imagined it, or it was destroyed by orcs and spiders.

"The second is from when I became a warrior." Elrond nodded as Legolas' eyes softened. Elrond knew the depth of love and loyalty that bound the Greenwood warriors together. They were a unit, a family, and dear friends.

"The third," Legolas continued, "is very recent, and private. Forgive me, my lord. But it still brings joy to me." And indeed, a smile crept over his face as he spoke, lifting the corners of his mouth and pushing some of the ice from his eyes.

Elrond withdrew, leaving Legolas to relish the memory. He knew well that sometimes the best advice he could give, the best medicine he could offer, was solitude and open ear if one needed to speak. Elrond turned to exit and nearly ran into Arwen, standing at the door.

She wore a tender expression, staring beyond her father to gaze at Legolas, but it was one Elrond knew well. He had seen Celebrían look at _him_ that way. Elrond frowned, but as he left the room, he felt a powerful sense of foreboding.


	6. Return to Sadness

Thanks to JaydeRayne, ziggy3, midnight13731, Alanic and Metoochocolate for reviewing, and thank you to all of you for sticking with me (if you're still reading!).

And finally, I'm working on the closing of this story, and it will set up some MARVELOUS angst for a nice little epilogue-story that I have in mind. Totally AU, complete nonsense, but super angsty and fun nonetheless.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Someone Said Goodbye**

_Chapter 6_

_by Caelhir_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elrohir slit the throat of another dying orc and moved to killing another dying creature. It felt like he was very, very thirsty and he was unable to quench that thirst unless he was killing something. Orcs, specifically. He heard a voice speaking and Elrohir looked up to find Elladan approaching slowly, holding a hand over the side of his face, regarding the carnage around them in mild distaste.

"Give it up, Elrohir," Elladan repeated, taking his brother's arm and guiding him away from the dying orcs. "They won't become any more dead than they will be soon."

Elrohir shook himself free.

"It's not _enough!_" he hissed angrily. "It will _never_ be enough! They made her go away! They made her leave!"

Elladan watched his brother stalk away, his own shoulders held tight and tense under his cloak. He sighed. This quest had changed them, aging them in ways Elladan wouldn't have thought possible. As he passed a hand across his cheek, he wondered if it was lined like his father's was. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes (_Must be a little rainy_, he thought hopelessly) and followed Elrohir.

His brother had been changed more than Elladan had been. Elrohir had become more angry as they had travelled, killing with more fury than ever before each time. Elladan had become slightly afraid of him, and had not reached out to him through their bond in some time for fear of the unknown rage that filled his other half.

Elrohir had stopped by a small withered tree that stood beside a small, dirtied pond. To Elladan's shock, Elrohir dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with tremendous sobs. Elladan, still some ways off, raced to catch his twin before Elrohir fell.

For a long time, they sat like that, Elrohir laid across Elladan's legs, sobbing unrestrainedly while Elladan wiped tears away from his own eyes. Finally, Elrohir sat up and pulled away from Elladan as if realizing that he had been crying on his brother. Elrohir wiped the tears from his eyes and sniffled loudly, running his sleeve across his nose. Elladan placed a hand on his brother's shoulder gently.

"Come, Elrohir. Let's go home."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

It had been two full weeks since Elrond's terrible premonition, and two weeks, Legolas thought, was a long time.

In that time, it seemed to Legolas that he had died and gone to heaven, for as he healed in his body, he found a presence that healed his heart as well.

Arwen was always at his side, there to talk, offer advice, help him overcome his injuries, or simply sit and share a beautiful day with him. As Legolas' body grew strong again, he found that his heart also began to mend itself, warmed by the soft presence of Arwen.

Within a few weeks, Legolas approached Elrond and asked humbly for permission to court Arwen. Elrond had seemed reserved, and even a little preoccupied, as he had consented, and Legolas had found it extremely difficult not leap into the air and whoop with joy as he walked away.

But when Elrohir and Elladan arrived home, more grave and serious-looking than ever before, Legolas found an entirely more complicated subject to tackle: telling his close friends that he was currently courting their only and younger sister.

Elladan handled it well, simply nodding and running a hand through his newly-clean hair, but Elrohir raised an eyebrow and had asked why.

Legolas was stumped.

"Why what?" he asked in return.

"Why," Elrohir elaborated, speaking as though he was treading on very fine ice, "why, in a time like this, are you doing this?"

Elladan jerked his head up very fast, and Legolas felt that he had been kicked in the stomach.

"What? What do you–"

"Don't listen," Elladan said firmly. "Elrohir, shut up right now."

Elrohir met his twin's glare with a similarly defiant expression.

"Why should I stop? Why shouldn't I tell him what I think of him waltzing in here and courting our sister right after our _mother_ was forced to _sail,_ for heaven's sake! And especially since _he _was the one who was with her, and he's here and she's not!"

Legolas sighed shakily, closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, resting on his knees. Elladan placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke angrily to his brother. Legolas blocked out the argument.

He knew it. He had known it all along, hadn't he? He had known that it was his fault, that he should have done more to stop it? Hell, if he had been required to be _killed _so that Celebrían would have stayed in Imladris, he would have died.

Anything to have never heard those words come so venomously from his dear friend's mouth, full of hate and spite.

Legolas stood, ignoring the arguing brothers and headed out of the Hall of Fire, where they had been talking, and headed away through the halls to the gardens where he had spent so much of his time with Arwen. He sat on a bench far removed form the main paths, and rested his head in his hands, and his hands on his knees.

Elrond had told him, reassured him that it wasn't his fault, that Celebrían's wound's were too severe for healing in Middle Earth. Arwen had, on the verge of tears one day, told him much of the same. So why did Legolas feel like they were lying, or telling him half-truths?

He heard his name, but instead of hearing Elladan or Elrohir, he heard Arwen's soft voice, gentle and like a healing balm to him. He turned to greet her.

"Hello, my love," she said softly, sliding onto the bench next to him. "Have my brothers been bothering you?"

Legolas laughed humorlessly.

"No," he said, "no, I just–"

"I know they did," Arwen said firmly, giving him a look so reminiscent of Elrond that Legolas was surprised to still be sitting next to her instead of quailing under the bench. "Elladan told me what Elrohir said. He's not happy with Elrohir right now."

Legolas rested his chin in his palm and looked at her, but said nothing. Arwen continued talking.

"For your information, no one around here believes you are at fault for _anything_ that has happened to our family. The circumstances were outside your control. As I have told you before, you were injured as well. I believe you recall _that_ happening at the very least. Now," she continued, drowning out Legolas' feeble attempts to butt in, "I don't want to hear anything more on the subject, understood?"

Legolas grinned weakly.

"Yes," he said, feeling more lighthearted. Arwen smiled.

"Now," she said, "let's talk of more pleasant things, shall we?"

"Such as...?"

"Such as how to torment my brothers to punish them for their behavior!"


End file.
